Broken Memories
by EminemCookies
Summary: Germany X North Italy. A tragic story about Italy's death, and the forbidden mirror of memories in this sort of 'heaven' he is living in with his grandfather. Unaware of even his own death. Germany is struggling with his grief at Italy's death, and with the churning battlefield around him. WWIIII was upon them. Alternating perspectives. Rated T to be safe.


**Okay, so this will be the first fan fiction that I will submit... I hope you like it. Feel free to leave reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters, sad as that is.**

**AN: I have changed this chapter in many ways. I hope you like the revisions. Next chapter will be Germany's perspective.**

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_**Chapter 1: The Meaning of Sacrifice**_

_This chapter is told from Italy's perspective._

Battle is so scary! Gunshots and screaming, oh, just the thought of it makes me want to run off crying. But I have to stay here with Germany. He'll keep me safe. Not that that helps my fear much. I shudder as I hear another explosion in the distance.

"Germany~! I don't wanna stay here! It's scary!" I plead, hoping he'll take me back with him to our home.

"No, Italy, they have killed Japan. Do you truly wish to give up? Do you want them to just get away with it without consequence?" Germany scolds, making me feel guilty for asking. The mere thought of Japan made me upset. China had killed him shortly after the allies had disbanded, attempting to weaken our small force so he could take over. He had almost killed me as well, but Germany had stopped him just short, throwing him off his Jeep, as we were riding through the desert side by side on a mission to conquer Egypt. It was a betrayal. The mission failed, and no one has heard from China since.

I gaze up at the tall German beside me. So strong, so fearless, but so... Tragic.

"Poor Germany has suffered so much," I think, staring up at him intently, trying to find some emotion cross his face that isn't stained with tragedy. He has had so many rough experiences. The famine caused from the radiation of a missile from Russia that had infected most of our allies and close friends, killing them off. Austria, Hungary, and Switzerland, among others. I was devastated as well, but not as bad as Germany. He took all the blame himself, feels as if he should have died in their place. It's just so- a large bullet whizzez straight past my head, missing me by mere centimeters. It is not until I hear the sound from the gun being fired that I finally react.

"GERMANY!" I scream, already crying and running toward him.

"Italy, do not space off!" Germany chides, "We are at war, and... I cannot afford to lose another ally." I almost cry at the delicateness, the voice so thin it seems as if it could almost shatter if he spoke too loud. Germany had been trying so hard to keep it together. In fact, I probably would have, but just then a grenade explodes approximately 20 meters away from us, causing shrapnel and other debris to fly in our direction. Germany then urgently pulls me into a small, makeshift bunker he had apparently brought me to while I was lost in his sad, lonely, self-depricating behavior.

"Hello." I am surprised to see Liechtenstein standing in front of me, nothing but a shadow of her former character. Her eyes seem dead, almost, hollow.

"H-hello..." I reply nervously, knowing just how much she had suffered as well. All three of us seem to stand there in a sort of symbolic silence, in the honor of Switzerland. Germany coughs awkwardly, to sort of ease the tension before speaking to Liechtenstein.

"Yes, guten tag, Colonel Liechtenstein. I have brought the things I promised you, so may you please take Italy down with you to the bunker?" I am instantly confused by this. What things? Why am I the only one to go to the bunker? I choose to voice the second question aloud.

I clear my throat, carefully choosing my words before blurting out, "Why only me, Germany? I don't wanna be in a bunker without you!"

"But Italy-" Germany argues, looking strained.

"If you can't come down, then I will help as well!" I suddenly declare, and even I am surprised by my bravado. Germany's eyes widen in shock, but then sink back to their casual position.

"You know it'll be dangerous-" Germany tries to continue. I give him the most determined face I can possibly pull off.

He looks over to Liechtenstein, seeming to seek some sort of counsel. She nods slightly, which appears to be enough for him. The German sighs.

"Fine. Do not forget your training." Yay! Germany is letting me go to war with him! Wait, what? I am about to have second thoughts, but then I see the look in Germany's eyes. Pure pride, and is that... Gratefulness? No matter how terrified I am, I have to push through. If only for his comfort. We carefully make our way out of the humble little half-base and head to the door. Germany takes his gun carefully off of his back, preparing it with much delicacy. When he is finished, he looks up at me.

"Italy, you shall keep watch. Tell me of anything suspicious." The German says carefully, looking as if he might be having second thoughts.

But to push those thoughts away, I declare loudly in my most official-sounding voice, "Ve~! Okay!" Germany doesn't seem so reassured, but he seems to let whatever he was thinking of go and kneels by the doorway.

I sit next to Germany, alertly keeping watch. I am amazing for helping out Germany! I must seem so cool! I am... So bored, I realize. But I can't bother Germany, and I can't- my random babbling I had somehow managed to keep contained in my head was stopped short by the site of an American sniper.

"GERMANY!" I scream, tears collecting in my eyes almost instantly as I tackle the poor German on impulse. Somehow, in the next instant, before anyone can react, a shot is fired. It nails me, right in the stomach.

"ITALY!" I hear Germany yell as he pulls me into the bunker with much urgency. I can already feel the life being slowly, painfully drained out of me with the blood that now steadily flows out. Germany does not even attempt to treat it, both of us knowing that a wound to the stomach is fatal. I find myself utterly unable to speak, just laying there limply in Germany's arms, as he shakes me gently, carefully, but oh-so-desperately, whispering my name over and over again.

"Italy... Italy... Italy... Don't leave me alone, you can't! Don't do this to me!" Germany's whispers get more urgent and the shaking more insistent. I slowly open my eyes, staring into his face. It is sad to think that the last of Germany's interesting faces I will ever see will be this sad, anguished one, positively torn with grief. I muster up the last of my strength to deliver my dying wish to Germany.

"G-Germany... Please be happy for me... Okay-ay?..." With every pause the pain and blood loss only make me more weak, but I must finish my message.

"Ti amo..." I can no longer keep my eyes open, and am finally slipping into the cold, dark, oblivion. The last thing I ever experienceis Germany desperately clutching me to his chest, calling my name over and over again, before breaking into a desperate, strangled scream.

"Italy…Italy…Italy…Italy…ITALLLLYYYYYY!"

And my weak heart beats no more.


End file.
